Don't Smile At Me
by WillowRose11656
Summary: Hermione Granger's life is turned upside-down when she quite literally crashes into a devilishly handsome Tom Riddle. With his snide comments and maddeningly sharp wit, Hermione finds she may have finally met her match. non-magic AU. Hermione/Riddle, Ron/Luna.
1. Chapter 1 - Meet Cute Or Not

Chapter One - Meet Cute... Or Not

Hermione bustled down the snow-covered street, groceries in hand. With Christmas a week away, the city was crawling with life, everyone trying to get in their last minute Christmas shopping. Children were running rampant while exasperated parents called after them in increasingly irritated tones. Hermione weaved between the people, hoping she could just make it two more blocks to her flat, when she smacked into something solid that had suddenly appeared. Her bags split open as she dropped them in surprise, dropping a raw, wrapped turkey and spilling tomatoes, asparagus, peas, and other vegetables across the sidewalk. Hermione scrambled to collect as many of the fallen items as possible, spouting profuse apologies. To her dismay, the turkey had slipped out of its paper and onto the shoes of the person into whom she had crashed.

Slowly she raised her head, trailing her eyes up from the turkey juice-covered shoes. Neat black trousers, a thick woolen jacket over a dark suit and a forest green tie. Pale skin protruded in stark contrast from the neckline, and a sharp jawline clenched tightly. She looked up into the stormy, grey eyes of the most handsome man she had ever seen. His face was classically molded, with a straight, narrow nose and high cheekbones. Not a single strand of his thick, black hair was out of place.

"I- I'm so sorry. I didn't see-" Hermione stammered, still captivated by his beauty.

"_Clearly_. These shoes are italian leather, which I suspect have now been utterly destroyed by your carelessness." He sneered down at her. His eyes held nothing but disgust and contempt. Hermione bristled.

"Well perhaps, if _you'd_ been paying attention, too, it could have been avoided. I'm sorry your _italian leather_ has been ruined, but I fail to see how this is entirely my fault." Hermione huffed in annoyance, shooting her own glare back at the man.

Now a sneer curled up the side of his lips as he answered in a condescending voice, "Hardly surprising, considering you failed to see that the way was clear before steamrolling through. I'll be sending you the bill for a new pair of shoes, Miss…?"

"Psh, you look like you could easily buy a new pair of shoes without batting an eye at the price," Hermione said as she took in the fine material of his clothes, and the way they hung as if they were custom made. She could not say the same, with her faded jeans and worn sweater that were barely holding on to their original shape. The man had also noticed and was taking it in gleefully.

"Be that as it may, blame must be assigned where it is due. Your name?"

"Hermione Granger. And yours?"

He eyed her for a moment, as if deciding whether or not she was worthy. Finally, he said, "Tom Riddle."

"Well, Mr. Riddle. It sure has been a joy meeting you. _Happy Christmas."_ Hermione put as much acid into her voice as she could, before storming off and leaving half her groceries sprawled across the ground.

"Happy Christmas to you, too, Miss Granger," she heard him call back with a hint of amusement.

"What a prick. '_These shoes are Italian leather'" _Hermione mimicked in a high voice as she walked away. She didn't care how gorgeous he was, there was no excuse for his utter unpleasantness. She was still muttering darkly to herself when she slammed the door to her flat and irritably threw her jacket over the hook on the wall with a little more force than necessary.

"Hermione, you're back!" called a cheery voice from another room. Harry walked in, took one look at the murderous expression on her face, and said, "Something wrong?".

"Only the most condescending, arrogant, horrible, condescending-"

"You already said that."

"-awful, snotty prick that I have ever met in my life." Hermione finished hotly.

"Blimey, 'Mione," Ron had joined them, coming in at the tail end of her rant. Looking at her empty-handedness, he asked, "Where's the food?" This set Hermione off once more, detailing exactly what had occurred as her two flat mates endured her increasingly shrill voice, wincing slightly.

"Can you believe it?" she demanded once she had finished.

"No, no. He sounds like a git," Ron agreed quickly.

"There's no way he can make you pay for his new shoes," added Harry. There was an awkward silence as the two boys made eye contact while Hermione fumed, neither knowing where to go from there.

Ron finally broke the silence by tentatively saying, "So… I guess this means no turkey tonight?"

"I suppose it does," she replied tightly.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy it so far! This is just a little teaser chapter, and I promise they will get longer as I continue updating. This is just meant to be a cute little romance not Gone With the Wind. **

**\- WillowRose :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - SPEW

**Chapter Two - S.P.E.W**

"We're going to be late, Ron! Harry could you go see what's taking him so long?" Hermione sighed impatiently as she stood by the door. Harry set off, returning a minute later with Ron.

"Sorry, 'Mione. I just wanted to make sure…" Ron turned a rather violent shade of red that clashed horribly with his already vivid hair. Hermione looked him up and down. He had donned a new jumper, a neat pair of trousers and a brightly colored scarf, all of which were a far cry from his usual plain attire.

"I'm sure Luna will love it," Hermione replied dryly, peering at the bright red radishes stitched into the scarf. Ron's blush increased as he sputtered for an excuse. "Oh Ron, don't be silly. I've known that you fancied her since you started telling Dean off for calling her 'Loony Luna,'" Hermione said. "Now can we please go? I'm sure the others are there already."

"Don't worry, mate. She'll love the radishes," Harry said, failing to keep an entirely straight face.

The three of them set off through the busy streets, again crowded with last minute shoppers. They passed by a lady pulling her child away from a display for the newest line of sports shoes, The Firebolt. "We just got you a pair of Comets two months ago!" An old man slipped his grandchildren some sweets as they walked past Honeydukes. "Don't tell your mother." Raucous laughter drifted out from Zonko's, the joke shop, as kids shot streams of water from flower bouquets at each other and blew through horns that emitted fart noises. Finally, they reached their destination a few blocks later.

The Three Broomsticks was a popular restaurant and bar for casual dining and large groups. Over the years, it had become the go-to spot for Hermione and her group to meet at least once a week and catch up with each other. Harry held open the door for the others as they stepped into the large, warm establishment. Immediately the sound of dishes and the buzz of cheerful conversation enveloped them as the smell of ale and dinner met their noses.

"Over here!" A voice called from their right. They turned to find Ginny already seated at a large booth with Luna and Dean. Ron sat across from Luna with Hermione next to him in the middle facing Dean. Harry and Ginny were on the edge.

"I like your scarf," Luna said in her sing-song voice, and the tips of Ron's ears turned red.

"Thanks," he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I uh like your radishes I mean earrings, I mean..." Hermione stomped on his foot beneath the table. He was saved from further struggling when a waitress approached their table.

"What can I get you started with, m'dears?" she asked.

"Just a butterbeer please," Hermione replied, with general agreement around the table.

"I'll take tea with an infusion of Gurdyroot," Luna said.

"Er, I'm sorry, Miss, but we don't have that here," the waitress said, a bit bemused.

"Oh. In that case, I'll have peppermint tea."

"Five butterbeers and one peppermint tea," the waitress confirmed before turning and walking away.

"Luna," Hermione asked somewhat reluctantly, "what's a Gurdyroot?"

"It's a plant that wards off malevolent spirits," the blonde girl replied.

"Malevolent spirits?" Harry asked.

"They clog up your ears and cloud your mind. They like cold weather best, so it's very important to protect yourself from them now."

"Right… That makes sense," Dean jumped in, clearly eager to change the subject. He sent a wary glance at Ron before turning to Hermione and asking, "How's your case going?"

Hermione sighed. "Not too good. We really need to have strong community representation, but no one seems to care enough to show up. The city is more interested in making money than preserving nature."

"What, don't tell me that spew isn't winning over the bleeding hearts of this city," Ron said in mock surprise.

"It's not _spew_, Ron," Hermione said hotly, "it's S.P.E.W! The Society for the Preservation of the Environment and Wildlife."

"What about the survey you put out a month ago?" Dean asked quickly, hoping to remove the spotlight from Ron.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "We got some great responses, just not enough. With our court date only a few days away, I have most of my arguments already laid out, but I'm not sure if we'll even be able to use the survey. Everyone seems to think that the idea of preserving the forest and placing a small park in one of the clearings is a lovely idea, but not lovely enough to fight for it. Everyone wants to just sit back while someone else takes care of it." She eyed them all sternly and continued, "If any of you felt like pitching in, coming to testify on behalf of S.P.E.W, it could really make a difference." The other shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very interested in the scratched wooden table.

"I would love to!" Luna piped up. "I'm sure they wouldn't want to tear it down if they knew about all the crumple-horned snorkacks and three-bellied glibbons."

"Er, it's okay Luna. On second thought, it could be seen as a personal bias if I have my friends come to the stand," Hermione said quickly, glaring at Dean, Harry and Ginny when they started coughing in a way that sounded suspiciously like snorts. Ron shot them a rather nasty look as well, leaning in to talk to Luna. They were interrupted from their musings when the waitress returned with their drinks. They ordered food as well before returning to their conversation.

Ginny turned to Harry and asked, "Got any interesting cases lately?" Harry, who was a police officer, shook his head.

"Sadly no. This town is a little small to hope for a case like the Gaunt murders a few years ago. It's a shame I was still in training then. Never got to work on it myself." Harry took a sip from his butterbeer. "Although, I guess an entire family turning up dead a few days before Christmas would put a bit of a damper on it."

"That's the spirit," Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

"But Harry, weren't you able to visit the crime scene still?" Ginny asked.

"Only briefly. I was with Kingsley when he got the call, and he thought it would be good for me to see firsthand what it's like to respond to such a big incident."

"That must have been awful," Hermione shuddered, imagining walking into a room with three dead bodies.

"Well, the most awful part about it is the fact that it's still unsolved. That poor family. Although… it doesn't seem like they were terribly missed by anyone." Harry said, lost in thought before snapping out of it and changing the topic to something lighter. "Oi Ron, how's Fred and George's joke shop coming along?"

By the time their food arrived, the six friends were happily laughing about the twins' most recent shenanigans. Dinner went along happily, Ron inhaling his food while trying to impress Luna, Ginny was continuing her early conversation with Harry about his police duties, and Dean was patiently listening to Hermione rant about her troubles with S.P.E.W.

"Ohmygod," Ginny suddenly said, her voice cutting across the three different conversations. Don't look now, but I've just spotted the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on." Five heads automatically turned in the direction she was looking. Tom Riddle was walking over from the waiting area, followed by a tall, busty woman with curly black hair and another man, rather batlike in appearance with long, greasy hair and a hooked nose. Hermione groaned and turned her face away, head in palm.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Dean asked, noticing her sudden distress.

"It's that awful man from two days ago! The one who made me drop my groceries and complained about his shoes," Hermione hissed, feeling her irritation at this incident rise once again.

"Which one?" Ginny asked vaguely, eyes still trained on Riddle.

"The taller one with short hair," Hermione said, hesitating in her description a bit. Even from afar, it was clear he was attractive. Every head turned in his direction as he walked past, the women shooting him longing glances while the men wished for his effortless masculine grace and confidence. He pretended not to notice, or perhaps he had become so accustomed to being the center of attention that he truly no longer took notice.

"_Him?_" Ginny asked, flabbergasted. "Hermione, I would be blessed to crash into him. Are you serious?"

"Who cares how he looks?" Harry asked gruffly. "From what Hermione said, he sounds like a total git." He gave a rather nasty look towards Riddle, who had moved to sit at a table somewhere behind Hermione with his companions. The waitress had rushed forward and was eagerly escorting them. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Okay, yes. He is superficially attractive, but the second he opens his mouth it's all ruined. People are too obsessed with their looks. I mean, you should know, Gin." She shot the redhead a you-better-agree-with-me look. Ginny was a photographer, and had begun garnering attention in the high fashion world.

"Mmm, I suppose. But just imagine what it'd be like to capture _him_. I mean, I don't think he has a bad side!"

"There's got to be something wrong with him. No bloke could possibly be that perfect," Ron said with the same tone of resentment as Harry. "Maybe he's got a deep dark secret, like he keeps his toenail clippings in a jar at home or he likes the smell of old people."

"Why, Ron?" Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "And I already told you what's wrong with him. Mister '_you ruined my italian leather!' _Please."

"Oh I see. You just don't like him because of your spew thing."

"_It's not spew! _It's S.P.E.W! The Society for-"

"The Preservation of the Environment and Wildlife," finished Ron, "yes I know."

Hermione stood up suddenly. "Excuse me, Harry. I need to use the loo," she said crossly. Harry quickly moved out of her way, and she side-stepped out. She had to cross Tom's table in order to get to the toilet, but she pointedly ignored him. He was deep in conversation with his friends anyway, and did not notice her. Her assumption must have been wrong, however, because when she emerged a few minutes later, he was standing by the door.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Granger". His voice was somewhere between a tenor and a baritone, but it held a richness that was very pleasing to the ear.

"And you," she said, eyeing him with distaste. "Waiting to use the ladies' room?"

"Waiting to speak with you."

"Oh." Hermione was momentarily lost for words. "I'm still not going to pay for your shoes."

He smirked. "We'll see about that. The actual reason is because I couldn't help but notice your sweater," he indicated her gray hoodie with a large picture of the earth on the front and the letters 'S.P.E.W' emblazoned above it. When she gave him a questioning look, he continued on. "Well you see, it's just that that happens to be the name of the pesky little group that is temporarily hindering my firm's progress." He raised an eyebrow, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"_Your _firm? You're with Borgin and Burke Incorporated?" She asked accusingly.

"Yes," he said simply, "I am. We were intending to have construction cleared for the spring, but I think we might have to push it back to the summer if this… _spew," _he emphasized the word, "group won't budge."

"It's S.P.E.W! And that forest is home to a wealth of creatures and preserving our wildlife should be our top priority! You think it's fine to go and kill our environment just so you can set up a stupid little mall that will pollute it even more?" Hermione's eyes blazed as she settled into her save-the-planet routine. "What happens when all the trees are gone because people like you have chopped them all down just to build structures that feed into the consumerism culture, when that same culture causes our landfills to overflow and-"

"I take it you're some kind of leader?" Tom interrupted cooly. His facial expression hadn't changed, except his eyebrow had perhaps lifted a bit higher, and his eyes had taken on a different gleam.

"I am the founder and C.E.O," she said defiantly.

"That explains," he said, his eyes drifting carelessly over her worn jeans and beat-up sneakers, "why you were so indignant about my italian leather. Working for a non-profit is rather, well unprofitable." He sneered down at her. "I do admire your passion, though, however misguided it may be."

"Misguided!" Hermione started indignantly, "I have never-"

"I would like to say, however," Tom bent down slightly, looking straight into her eyes, and Hermione caught a whiff of aftershave. Subtle, yet enticing. Barely-there, then gone. She hated that she found herself unconsciously leaning towards him. His next words, however, jolted her out of her reverie. "You don't stand a chance against me. Your little ten-person club is facing down a very notable corporation who happens to fund many of the government's operations. Your efforts are futile. You have only postponed the inevitable. I advise you to give up before it becomes embarrassing. I could even find you a job with my company." He paused, then added with a cruel half smile, "I'm sure you'd make a lovely secretary."

"How dare you!" All thoughts of aftershave were gone as she replied indignantly, "Well, I can _assure you_ that you are going to be more than just delayed. We will never allow you to tear down that forrest. I will not be intimidated by a few words by some nobody," Hermione felt her face flushing. "Now if you will excuse me, I was enjoying dinner with my friends before you decided to crash it." She turned her eyes away from Riddle for the first time to find her friends' staring between them, all with looks of astonishment.

"Friends, hmm? I had assumed it was a group date," he said, looking at Hermione's table where Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna and Dean were now trying and failing to hide their staring.

"What gave you that impression?"

"Well it's clear the ginger is after that blonde girl and Glasses has been trying a little too hard with the other ginger. I assume they're related? And the dark one has probably been listening to you ramble on about spew all night, so he must have some ulterior motive."

"First of all," began Hermione hotly, "it's not _spew_. Second, your intuition needs a tune-up. It is not a group date, thank you. We're all friends from university. Also, why were you watching us?"

"Why were you watching me?" he countered, not a hint of embarrassment.

"I _wasn't_. I-"

"Well that's strange, considering you made a rather obvious point of pretending to ignore me when you passed by."

"Maybe you just couldn't take a hint."

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well then, I'll leave you to your," he paused before saying, "_friends_" in a way that implied something else. " And I'll see you in court on Tuesday." He departed, leaving behind the lingering smell of his aftershave that Hermione sternly told herself was awful. She stomped back to her own table, the occupants of which were now staring at her open-mouthed.

"Hermione!" Ginny said as Harry stood up to allow her to pass by. "What was that?"

"It was nothing!" Hermione said defensively, gulping down butterbeer.

"That didn't look like nothing," Dean said with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What did he want to talk to you about?"

Hermione told them about his connection to her fight to preserve the forest, but left out his last comments about the group date. She flushed a little when she realized that Dean did seem a little bit more interested in her words than most people tended to be. "So we're basically mortal enemies. Trust me, there is nothing but mutual dislike."

"People have a way of coming together in the end. It's just a matter of adjusting your aura to another's," Luns said. "You used to call me Loony Lovegood," she nodded sagely at Ron, smiling slightly, "but now you're wearing a scarf with radishes."

"I don't think my aura would ever adjust to his. My soul couldn't possibly turn that black," Hermione glowered in his direction.

"Souls and auras aren't the same thing," Luna said.

Hermione sighed in a defeated way before replying under her breath, "Of course they aren't." She watched as Riddle gave a small chuckle at something the hook-nosed man had said. He had a faint dimple that appeared on the otherwise smooth surface of his cheek. She was suddenly anticipating the upcoming court date with more nerves than before.

* * *

**A/N: Anddd the plot thickens. I hope to do a chapter soon from Tom's POV, though it is a bit trickier to write. Thank you for reading! I promise updates won't always be this fast, I'm just on a roll here.**

**\- WillowRose :)**


	3. Chapter 3 - The Gift

**Chapter 3 - The Gift**

22 December

"Hey Tom, I heard your court case with that loony tree group is coming up," called a voice from across the ground floor of the building that housed Borgin and Burke Inc. Tom turned around and found Draco Malfoy approaching the coffee kiosk queue. He pursed his lips, but otherwise kept his face neutral.

"It is indeed."

"Are you worried? This group has been halting up the firm for nearly six months now. You wouldn't think a bunch of hippies could really stand in the way. My father said that you've been preparing for the worst, though." Malfoy had barely paused to breathe. He was one of their newest hires, owing greatly to the fact that his father was a senior partner to the firm.

Tom looked ahead at the line, mentally urging it to move faster. "Seeing as how I've never yet lost a case, I don't intend to start now. I certainly would not allow an insignificant and mediocre non-profit that calls itself _spew_ and expects to be respected to best me." He glanced down at Malfoy, who was looking back with thinly veiled awe, hanging on to every word. Tom allowed a cruel smile to curl his lip as he continued, "I doubt that bunch of rag-tag tree-huggers could tear themselves away from counting squirrels or eating leaves to form a basic argument that would hold up in court." _Except for that Granger. _

"But father said that-"

"Tell your father that I more than have it under control. I'll take a coffee, black, with a shot of espresso," Tom had reached the front of the line, and pulled out his wallet to pay. He passed the barista a couple bills, collected his drink, then turned back to the blonde. "Lucius might be reminded of those pesky Beauxbatons cases, as well as that lawsuit against Dumbledore. I believe that paid for your last trip to France. Good day, Draco." With that, Tom turned and briskly walked away, glad to be rid of the younger dolt. He took a long sip of his drink, barely grimacing at the harsh flavor that flooded his taste buds. He had grown used to its bitterness over time; it was his go-to working-overtime drink, after all.

This court case had had him staying long after hours preparing and building a case; S.P.E.W was causing him more trouble than he cared to admit. While he belittled and insulted the non-profit every chance he could, they knew how to work the system. Every paper, form, and petition that had to be filled out, every bureaucratic hoop that had to be jumped and obstacle that had to be dealt with, was quickly and efficiently taken care of. Of course, now that he had met their fearless leader, it wasn't hard to see who the main driving force behind all of their organizational power was.

Hermione Granger. She both intrigued, irritated, and frustrated him all at once. Tom had done some research on her since realizing she was a force to be reckoned with. She had graduated top of her class from Hogwarts twelve years ago with a double major in Business and Environmental Science and a minor in law, and later received an MBA. From there, she was quickly snatched up by The Order of the Phoenix, a highly respected human rights organization. She headed a couple projects during her time there and even collected a few awards for her dedication and efforts in promoting migrant worker rights. Somewhere along the way, Granger had decided it was time for her to branch out and start her own company. Thus, S.P.E.W was born.

It was clear she possessed some intellect, unlike the vast majority of the population, but she was wasting her efforts on a cause that, ultimately, would be useless. Her uptight ideals and hardheadedness annoyed him to no end, especially knowing that her skills and determination could be put to much better use elsewhere. He had only been half joking when he'd teased her about finding her a job at Borgin and Burke's. Granger's tenacious attitude, array of experience, sharp wit and even sharper intellect would make her a great asset. _It's a shame all of that is wasted. _

Tom nodded at a few coworkers on the way to his office, and ignored the rest. He had come to learn that completely disregarding the majority of the firm allowed him to escape from the more horrendous office events throughout the year, the Christmas party being the most heinous example. As Christmas was now only three days away, it never hurt to show just how little the spirit of the holiday affected him.

_I bet that Granger girl decorates the park Christmas trees because it would offend her too much to cut down a real one for her house, _Tom mused as he stepped into his rather large office and sat down at his desk. There was a large box awaiting him, wrapped in simple brown paper with an envelope on top. Tom rolled his eyes. Every year, some junior executive would always try to get in his good graces. He slit open the envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter.

_Riddle,_

_Although you are a total arse, I admit that I do still feel bad about ruining your shoes. They were Italian leather, so admittedly not that bad. Still, I decided that I would feel much better knowing that neither my money nor yours would be going toward another pair of overpriced murder shoes. _

_In the spirit of Christmas, I decided to be the bigger person. These shoes are vegan, cruelty-free, and are sustainably made using ethically sourced material. I promise you they are just as comfortable as your old ones, and at least this time you will actually be helping the planet. _

_Happy Christmas,_

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. Your secretary deserves a raise._

_P.P.S. You'd better get used to that feeling of helping the environment. Won't it feel so great knowing that forest will be preserved?_

Tom's eyebrows steadily higher as he read the note. He scowled down at the box. What was she playing at? Did she think she could win him over with a pair of hippie moccasins made out of banana leaves? And what had she meant by "your secretary deserves a raise"?

"Parkinson!"

A few moments later, a blonde head peeked its way through the door. "Yes, Tom?"

"That's _Mr. Riddle_-"

"Oh, please." Pansy rolled her eyes and fully stepped into Tom's office. We both know I will never call you that, especially since I've known you since we were kids. Get to the point." Her hands were on her hips and one eyebrow was raised, unimpressed by his show of authority.

"We both know that had you not come with this position, I would never have allowed you to step foot in this building." _You're too connected with my past. _Tom narrowed his eyes at his secretary, who was not intimidated in the least.

"Well it's a good thing Abraxus made clear I wasn't to be let go, I suppose." They had had this conversation many times before. It frustrated Tom to no end that the one person not threatened by him was the one person whose job it was to follow his directions.

"Your job may not be on the line, but your Christmas bonus is, and you are on thin ice as it is." There, that had rubbed the smug expression off of her face. It never hurt to remind his inferiors of their place. Tom held up Granger's note and pointed toward the box laying on his desk. "Care to explain these?"

Pansy raised an eyebrow at it, a smug gleam creeping back into her eyes. "I have no idea what th-"

"That's a lie," Tom cut in. He waved the note around as he continued, "You are specifically mentioned in this note. 'Your secretary deserves a raise'. What did you have to do with this?"

"She's bloody right, too," she huffed. At Tom's warning look, she said, "Okay, fine. A woman called saying that she wanted to surprise you with a little gift for Christmas. She explained how she accidentally ruined your old shoes and wanted to make it up to you. She was extremely pleasant and polite, and seemed like such a darling. I gave her your shoe size and told her to drop off the package anytime and I'd take care of it. Clearly the girl has some sense."

"I specifically instructed you not to allow any gifts of _any kind_ enter my office. How-"

"Okay, Mr. Scrooge. I get it, Christmas was ruined for you as a kid," at Tom's _don't go there_ look, she threw her hands up in defense, "but she seemed like a sweet, headstrong girl. Lord knows you won't find many of those in your life who would be willing to go to such lengths to do something nice for you."

Tom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache coming on. "Pansy, she's the one whose case I am opposing in court in two days. This was just her way of gloating." He pointed to the box once more. "Eco-friendly shoes. She's mocking me."

"Well, a little friction only spices things up. Besides, you could do with some ego-deflating once in a while. I'll always remember you as that kid from the smallest house on the block who-"

"Enough. I have told you many times that I do not want any discussion of our childhoods in this building." Tom's voice was stern. The last thing he needed was for a nosy coworker to eavesdrop and start asking questions.

Pansy sniffed. "Fine, have it your way." She turned towards the door and added over her shoulder, "If you need to complain about anything else, you know where to find me." She shut the door behind her, and almost immediately opened it again. "And by the way, if you dare to take away my Christmas bonus, I'll personally go to Abraxus. As he was so fond of me, I doubt he'll take kindly to the idea that my new boss isn't treating me well." With that, she shut the door again, leaving Tom alone in his office.

Great, now that Granger was invading even his office life. She had somehow managed to win over his secretary in just one phone call. Perhaps he had slightly underestimated her. Divide and conquer indeed.

_And what the hell do I do with these shoes? _Accepting them and wearing them would be like a truce, like conceding victory. That was not Tom Riddle. Never. No, the only thing to do was simply toss them out. Perhaps it would make a nice gift for Parkinson's dog as chew toys? Then again, whatever type of vegan leather they were made from would probably give it indigestion. Tom picked up the box and plopped it on the ground by the waste bin on the side of his desk. It was too large to fully fit in, so he would just have to toss it into a larger bin on his way out of the office.

The matter settled, Tom sunk into his seat and pulled out the files on the Hogsmeade Forest case. It would be one of his company's biggest advancements once the matter was settled. The land was right next to the city of Hogsmeade, a bustling, urban hub of activity. Borgin and Burke planned on placing one of their super malls on that land, as it was a prime location; large, middle to upper-class population and no other comparable center within a fifty mile radius. Riddle himself had suggested the idea during one of their strategic planning meetings. It would make sense, after all, to place the crowning jewel in their nationwide string of shopping malls right next to their corporate center. It was all so perfect. Except for one part: S.P.E.W.

Borgin and Burke always tried to be as discreet about their plans for as long as possible in order to prevent exactly this type of situation. Most pop-up environmental activist groups were fairly unorganized and easily discouraged once they saw how far along developmental plans were. However, only about a day after Riddle had filed to rezone the Hogsmeade territory from an open space to commercial use, a protest petition had been filed against it. That Granger girl had jumped on top of it faster than he had thought possible for someone to notice and act on it.

Since then, it had been an uphill battle. While Riddle had been busy trying to attain the necessary permits for building and construction, as well as an economic and environmental impact analysis report, S.P.E.W had been busy signing petitions and filing protests. They had had a representative present at every city hall meeting in order to speak out against the pending zone change. This upcoming court date would settle the matter once and for all. A panel of eight representatives from the Planning Committee of Hogsmeade would vote, and Riddle needed at least six yeses to overturn S.P.E.W's protest. Tom wasn't worried, though. After all, he had not been top of his graduating class for nothing. He had a few tricks up his sleeve.

A knocking at his office door interrupted Tom's reading. "Come in", he said.

"Mr. Riddle, I have the economic and environmental impact analysis reports," said a tall man leaning halfway through the door frame.

"Nott," Tom greeted him with a nod. He crossed the room to stand in front of Tom's desk.

"And everything is… in order?" Tom asked as he took the papers and began a quick scan of them.

"Please, don't insult me," Nott lightly scoffed. He had worked with Riddle for many years, and he was one of the few trusted to manage sensitive tasks like this. Nevertheless, he was always eager to impress, despite his outwardly cool manner. "My cousin works at the Bureau of Fish and Wildlife Service. He personally oversaw the report and corrected some _faulty_ data. As for the economic impact report, my sister-in-law, Bellatrix, is one of the top economists at the University of Slytherin. As that is the nearest research institution to the Hogsmeade land, it wasn't hard to convince the committee they were the best suited to handle the impact report. I let her know that her projections should be happily optimistic."

Tom nodded along as he listened to Nott as he looked for charts and graphs to corroborate with the other man's explanation. Everything seemed to check out. "Thank you, Nott. Another job well done." Tom inwardly sneered as he saw how his colleague's smile grew and his eyes filled with pride. It was pathetic how much validation these people needed.

"It was nothing at all, Mr. Riddle."

"Now, if you will excuse me. I have a few more preparations to make now that I have this new information," Riddle dismissed the other man and turned his full attention to the reports in his hands. He didn't look up to see Theodore Nott's face momentarily fall before turning, nor did he hear the soft click of his office door being shut.

_Now this definitely changes things._ Riddle allowed himself a small smile as he read through the doctored analyses. This was the key. Tom took out a pen and pad of paper and began jotting down notes, circling key facts, and building a solid case to present in two days.

_Granger won't know what hit her._

The next morning found Tom still at his desk, having worked through the night. His eyes, now slightly glassy from overuse, finished reading his final paragraph. He let out a sigh of relief, having just finished preparing for the case, which was now only a day away. Tom glanced at his watch. 9:26 am. His eyes widened in surprise. The hours really slipped away when he was working on a case. He became so immersed in his job, the rest of the world just seemed to be put on hold. While this had been deemed an unhealthy habit in the past, the results were undeniable.

And boy were _these_ results worth it. Tom started shuffling his papers around back into order, placing them into his briefcase. He always left his desk immaculate, with no pen out of place, no loose papers, and absolutely no useless junk like photos or stress balls. Once all was organized and ready to go, Tom let his head fall back against the headrest of his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He normally would never be caught dead in such a position of relaxation in his office, but it was a Saturday morning, and no one was around. He grinned in anticipation of the case. It was the feeling he got before each of his cases - that he was about to eviscerate his opponent thoroughly, and it was incredible.

Tom's eyes fell upon the shoe box resting next to his desk, and his smile faded slightly. It was the first genuine Christmas present he had received in many years. Of course, there was a small pile each year from those in his office hoping for a recommendation for a promotion, colleagues who had been caught in compromising financial positions and needed legal advice, the list went on. But Granger, _Hermione_, had bought him a present, even though it was clear she needed the money much more than he did. He smirked as he recalled the lumpy sweater and beat up sneakers she had been wearing the day they met.

_Stop getting sentimental. Granger's your opponent. It is simply the sleep deprivation talking. _

Tom stood up, grabbed his briefcase and the shoe box, and left his office. He passed any number of trash bins that would have fit the box, yet he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. He made it down to the ground floor, past the entryway, and paused to stare at the large trash receptacle outside the building. He stood frozen to the spot for a moment before turning away and walking towards his car. He popped open the trunk and placed the shoe box in it. _Damn sentimentality_. He might as well keep them as backup in case something happened, like a dog throwing up on his shoe, or a bird somehow managed to poop on it, or something like that. _God I need coffee_.

With that, Tom got in his car and drove to the nearest coffeehouse in town that he knew, Trelawney's Coffee and Tea Leaves.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I wasn't entirely sure whether I was going to continue on with this story, but I figured I had to see it through. Expect more updates soon :))**


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